09.20.10/09.27.10: Watusi

Sorry everyone for this hyper delayed post.

There's a dance called Watusi it's out of sight / First you slide to the left, then to the right / Two steps forward; keep the rhythm tight / There's a dance called Watusi, and it's a sight.


"You got it?  You got??  Come on, Krystal...let's try it...you're our leader!!"  My brothers urged me.

I'll be honest.  I was really tired, from not having been able to sleep, and with the excitement and anxiousness of the beginning of the semester, a thousand things were on my mind.  I love singing, but I did not feel like singing that evening.  My brothers at the park kept urging me to join them.  I wasn't confident.  Although their smiles and the emotions conveyed and displayed on their faces when they sang showed me nothing but pure joy, I was taken back to my early days of voice lessons when I was too shy to sing with all that my being held.

Leonard and the other guys were as encouraging as anyone could have ever been.  Teaching me the notes, modeling and singing for me where so I would know where my voice would place, and constantly being positive, I could not have asked for anything more.

When we were all done, I talked with Leonard and Ben for a little while more while Dupree went back to the bench to talk with one of the other brothers at the park.  I told them that I hadn't sung a capella in so long, and during my simple conversation with Leonard about singing earlier, I had not anticipated having to sing with them, and really did not know that they would even want me to sing with them.  It wasn't until Leonard quickly hobbled with his walking stick over to Ben when I realized he was serious.  Seeing Ben's face completely light up when he heard I sang was even more confirmation.  They called Dupree to join in later, and by then, there was no doubt in my mind that these brothers really meant business: they loved singing, they sing together, and they wanted me to sing with them.

I wish words could describe just how great they were.  Their harmonies were tight and their energy simply exuded with every syllable they sang.  Looking them in the eyes while they sang, I saw all the hurt, despair, discomfort, loneliness, and brokenness etched in their faces slowly disappearing.  Their eyes glistened and shone with a light that I had never seen in a long time.  All baggage had been put aside, all for the sake of creating good music, and all for the sake of love.  I realized, I needed to do that, too.  Christ's love was simply poured out, and the roles were reversed: there I stood, empty-handed, intent on showing them Christ's love, and there they were pouring it out onto me.

I saw Dupree the following week in the underground area, and he was nothing but joyful.  His face lit up when he saw me approach him and the first thing he said was, "Hey, Krystal!!! You ready??  You got your part down??!  Let's give it a shot!!  Let's go!!!"  There was that smile, that unmistakable smile.  He kept reminding me that before they met me, they would always sing together, but none of the other guys that they had met had the range or capability to sing the highest part, until they met me.  I wanted to say to him that until I met him and the other guys, I had never felt the Holy Spirit moving so strongly in the midst of music making.  Instead, I just smiled and asked if he were serious about us singing right at that moment.  He was only half-kidding; he added that he didn't want to show disrespect for the guy who was playing the guitar, but his joy and his love was so strong, I could not help but be joyful and praise God for such a great brother.

These events, though not entirely extensive, will be memories that I will store away forever.  The unmistakable presence of the Holy Spirit being in the center of our tight circle at the park, and the unmistakable presence of the Holy Spirit conversing with Dupree and I, and even as we prayed was so surreal, yet so real.  God was there.  He's working in their lives...I could see it and I could feel it.  Music making, as powerful as it is, is nothing without the sovereignty of the Holy One.  Use me, Lord, to be a light in the darkest night.  I have seen this in action, and seek even more to live this out.

9.27

"We're going in. On Thursday most likely, or maybe Friday. Larry and I got a place."

It's part of this way of life, this isn't their home, they're nomads. I knew these things all too well but I couldn't help but feel a little surprised. After seeing and speaking to Tasha for the last couple of weeks, I had created this expectancy of meeting up with her again. After arriving at Love Park, I had scanned the faces to find familiarity. But familiarity doesn't dwell there, it shouldn't. I forget that seeing my friends week after week means little to no progress, no opportunity, no home, no comfort.

A few weeks ago, as we were wrapping up Diakonos for the night, a woman broke into our circle and asked us for prayer. She grabbed her husband's arm and yanked him into the circle looking and waiting for our reply. We readily said yes and asked for what she wanted prayer.

"Oh, where to start! Everything, a home, a job, an opportunity."

That's when I met Tasha and Larry. They're wonderful to talk to and filled with stories from their past. She was a paralegal for eight years with a firm in Philadelphia. Three years ago, she was forced to resign because of a bipolar disorder.

"I fell apart when they came to get my car and my house."

She was smiling when I spoke to her though, anticipating the end of the week. Here is a place where goodbye often means better news than hello.

Thoughts on my first time

Hey guys,

I just wanted to thank you guys for allowing Dreamcatchers to help out with Diakonos around 2 months ago. It was a great experience for me personally and I think it was really good to get outside the Penn bubble I usually find myself wrapped in. It was nice to do some of God's work outside the context of school and I really enjoyed the time we spent at Love Park

I remember the only person that I spoke at length with was a guy named Joe Clemons. Kathryn and I had the privilege of talking to him and I thought we had a great conversation. He didn't look like a smart guy but he knew a lot of stuff from his time as a TV repairman. He also showed us a couple of drawings for some of the inventions that he had in mind and then he drew a portrait of both Kathryn and I. Goes to show that you can't judge a book by its cover. I was glad that I had the chance to get to know him as well as the chance to pray for him. It was hard for me to pray for him because I don't pretend to know what its like to be homeless but I hope my prayers gave him a bit of hope.

Before I knew it, 2 hours had passed and it was time to go. However, looking back on my experience, I realized that I didn't get to talk to all the people that I gave sandwiches to; as they all swarmed me within the first 5-10 minutes of our arrival. I didn't have much of an opportunity to share anything related to Christ, as they would leave as soon as they received their brown bags. I was thinking that maybe a gospel track could be included in the paper bags, or at least contact info so that they know how to get to GCC? It would be a pity if they didn't know we were doing this because of God's love for them. Maybe you guys already thought of this but I just wanted to bring up the idea in case you guys haven't.

Thanks again and I'll see all you guys this upcoming school year!

Jabez

on repeat

"Talking never got nobody nowhere."  He kept repeating that, every time we reached a difficult point in the conversation.  "You bring out your sandwiches, your warm bottles of water... but you can't get us out of here.  No one can.  Nothing can."

"I don't think it can happen overnight..."

"I've had people come out here and pray for me for three years... ain't fixed anything.  I'm still in the same situation."

"Change takes time..."

"Three years is long enough."

Déjà vu. I've had this same conversation with this same man before.  We may be sitting in the cool air of the fountain of Philadelphia's name-sake park tonight, but he's lower than he was when I first met him in the underground concourse-- a kind of oxymoronic homeless village.  Not only is he homeless, he is hopeless.  He's beyond feeling desperate; he's clinging to nothing but despair.

"I may have never been homeless, but I've been through my own 'situations' and difficulties... they're different, I know, but the struggle is the same..."

"You'd have to be homeless to know what it's like."

"I realize that, but what I'm saying is maybe it's not the situation, maybe it's something deeper than that, beyond the physical.  Maybe it is a spiritual thing.  Maybe the situation is with you, not with 'this.'"

Hit and sink.  Here was this fifty-year-old black man, happily enjoying the night air and a little food.  He didn't mind sitting alone, picking through his thoughts.  But then comes this Christian, this ideal-driven college brat, thinking she can pray for him and love him and and tell him that his life is in shambles because he can't bear to look at his own soul.  Who does she think she is to downsize his three years of agony into some sort of spiritual shenanigan?

He threw his backpack over a shoulder and poured out his water into one of those pathetic cement pots clogging up the middle of the park.  He said something, similar to same sad lines he'd had on repeat before.  I replied and said his name, thinking that'd make my own refrain stick harder, "K--, I hope you get out of this.  I hope to see you happy some day."

God, I really do.  If I can't accomplish anything, let me at least hope.  May he learn to hope too.

thank you guys

your posts have been a blessing to read. keep shining the light in philly!

-albert (from korea)

A First

A bit overwhelming for a first time, but it was a changing experience.

Regrets, grudges, frustration, hopelessness. "God can't love me." "I've made too many mistakes." "I'm going to hell." They have little to nothing. Their hearts are heavy, carrying a lifetime of burden and debts that they refuse to forgive. There is bitterness and stubbornness. They hate their families. They hate the wars they've served. But they also care very much. There is kindness, and whether they truly believe or not, there is openness to faith. Their eyes, tired; their faces lined by the creases of years; and their voices, soft and barely audible. (I strained my ears trying to pick up on key words and shifted to reading their lips in order to confirm my guesses, as I simultaneously badgered myself for using earphones too much.) The men we spoke with, they were in their fifties, sixties, I think. They don't have much to say, but they had so much to give..simply by exemplifying the human condition and sharing words of wisdom accumulated over the years. One man, in his state of destitute, had the kind heart to tell us that "education is everything"...to stay in school...to learn as much as one can. As the man tapped his forehead, he reminded us that knowledge was everything. Some of us might disagree and answer that education is not everything. Rather, God is. That our spiritual life weighs more than all that knowledge could provide. But his words had a special place in my heart. His words were powerful. He echoed the exact phrases my parents repeated to me in each stage of growing up: "Without knowledge, you are nothing." It is the words a parent tells a child. And I could not not be moved by such reminders, from a complete stranger, what's more, a man whom I perhaps would have been afraid to look at not long ago. He reminded me of all that I've taken for granted. In a way that I cannot fully explain, he made me appreciate the long nights I will spend working, using my brain, keeping my mind sharp. I hope that I shall never hear myself complain about the work that I have to do, because of what this man has said. I have nothing to offer him, except a sandwich and a bottle of water. But I pray that God will hear his prayers. That is perhaps is all that I can do.

**********

"I'll be all right. I'll be all right." He kept saying. He does not believe God will forgive him for what he has done or will do. He does not believe that God can possibly ever love him. He does not believe that Jesus died for his sins, my sins. And he cannot comprehend that we've all offended God as much as he has. But he sees better days. "I'll be all right, " he says again. In a way, I feel like he was reminding himself of the hope he has, but he also reminded me of the hope that each of us has. His name was David. I don't know his background; I don't know his life story, but his name comes from the Bible...from one of the greatest stories of God's triumph. He says that there is no changing his hardened heart, no changing his mind, no turning back from the path he's chosen. It's hard to convince him that God is greater than any of his thoughts and actions. It's difficult to be persuasive when, as the old Asian saying goes, "the salt he's eaten is more than the bread I've eaten." And in the end, I was helpless. Impotent. Weak and incapable. I could do nothing to change this man's mind, not in a mere hour, no. And the only thing, I realized, that I could do was to pray. And few times have I really prayed for something. Few times have I realized the magnitude of what was needed. I wanted change for this man so much. I did not have anything to give. I could not offer any practical suggestions. I was very much at a loss for words. I could do nothing for him, but to listen. I realized too that listening I could not even do well, since I could not hear him parts of the time. There is so much to pray for. There is everything to pray for. If we prayed for everything in the world that needs praying, there'll be no end to prayer. David said it'll take more than a miracle to change him. Having been saved by God, I no longer doubt God's greatness. I do not doubt God's ability. I believe in miracles. But I do pray that God is willing...that it is indeed in His plan to save him. Everything in God's time, right? I pray that until the day God meets him just where he is, David will continue to hold onto the hope he has. I hope he gets his miracle. I really, really do.

There is everything to be thankful for. There is everything to pray for. If we really understood the urgency of the matter, we'd realize that there is so much, so much to be done. And that even giving all of ourselves may not be enough, so how can we give any less?


- rena

Why Diakanos Exists

Hey Diakanos,

I know it's not my turn to post because I already posted just a week or two ago but I just wanted to share this one experience Renna and I had just tonight. I think it'll remind us once again why Diakanos exists.

Well, before we left for Center City, (as you guys can recall) we first prayed for the night. When Katherine led us to pray for anyone in particular that we might meet again at the park, I recalled David whom I met only once before. David is actually not homeless but he always hangs around at Love Park. While I just found out tonight that it's because he extremely hates the people in his house, what concerned me most was that he was in active rebellion against God. During that one time I met him, he told me that there was no changing him, that regardless of whether God existed and loved David, there was nothing that David wanted to or could do but to continue living until death, and move on into eternity in Hell. So I prayed for David's soul that he might be saved from otherwise certain Hell that he himself seemed to know about all too well.

In that moment of prayer, I first admitted to how I really do not have an ounce of control over saving his fate, his soul, and bringing about miraculous salvation; as a college student I have no social work training for any practical counseling as well. I simply prayed that in my powerless nature God would manifest Himself and do something Himself, because He was and is the only one who can. I think that attitude and prayer were the critical steps to God's using me as a vessel to open up more of David's heart tonight.

I didn't see David when I got there and ended up talking with Crystal to Franklin, a recent homeless. A little while in, though, I was surprised to see Katherine call me over and tell me that David wanted to see me. I walked across the park to find him talking with Renna while he stood waiting for me. I was at first very surprised to hear him ask if I was "alright." I only met him once before, and that encounter wasn't very effective in terms of ministry on my part. But he had a look of genuine interest and friendship in his eyes. Next, he talked about his problems that deserve a whole different blog post in of itself but after that he told me how he feels his heart slowly changing every time he sees me, us, Diakanos, ministering to him at the park. I praised God for answering a part of my prayer just earlier when I heard that inch closer to God but in addition to that, it was that moment that really hit the spot for me. I realized once again just why we Diakanos exists.

Although we can't necessarily take them out of homelessness, and although our bagged lunches are more of snacks to their daily diet of other free food and soup kitchen food, we bring something greater to them. We bring them the saving and life-changing Love of Jesus Christ that no amount of money and therapy can bring about. I was experientially and all too vividly reminded of that fact when once again I saw plain evidence of God's Love slowly but steadily and gradually changing hearts, and in particular, David's rebellious heart. Moreover, I saw that all the more personally when David told me how ministers like Diakanos, including me, kept him going. I thanked God for using me then to minister to David, through me.

Although not all homeless people will be thankful or changed by Diakanos' works through God's power, it is a fact that some have, are, and will continue to be brought from death into life. This is why we exist, to be not only children communing and growing in personal relationship with God, but also to use our growth primarily for the purpose of being the Jesus for this World, that Jesus Christ Himself was for it as well. This is why we exist, to exist not only for personal growth and betterment of just ourselves and our cliques at Church, but also for the salvation of this World that matters just as much, if not more, to God as does one part of His body.

I just want to encourage you all that God is using us to save lives, and that such miracles are happening despite our weaknesses. And I just want to praise you all by saying that such miracles are happening through our weaknesses because we have opened up our hearts as living sacrifices for God.

But as sinners, we still hold onto idols and there is still a lot of baggage, blockage, and walls that prevent God from doing more through us. Let us pray for our own hearts that we would be willing to sacrifice our desire for physical comfort, security, and other aspirations for what rots and inevitably disappears, that we would be in complete surrender and union with God's Will. Only then can we cease to question whether God is really working sometimes. Only then can we be in a spiritual position to finally begin to constantly experience (without previously necessary revivals) the unfailing ceaseless works and the Glory of God in this World.

Your Brother,

Elliot